


Sidewalk

by hellointernetmynameisjohn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, M/M, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:59:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellointernetmynameisjohn/pseuds/hellointernetmynameisjohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John meet when John moves in next door. The two quickly become friends, but when dreams become a reality, there is no such thing as happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John

**Author's Note:**

> This is not going to have a happy ending. Sorry, not sorry, but I warned you.

It was a Tuesday. I like Tuesdays. I wish everyday was Tuesday. Tuesday is when you've come to terms with the fact that another week has begun. Tuesdays are when I can be alone. Or they used to be. I remember the voices ripping me out of my mind palace, where I had been paging through one of my favorite books.

I sighed, mentally slipping a bookmark in. Bilbo and Smaug would just have to wait. Getting up off the couch, I walked to the front door and cracked it slightly, not wanting to draw attention to myself. A slender blonde woman was carrying several boxes into the flat adjacent to mine.

"Sarah," a man called up the stairs, "Do you have the box labeled 'Textbooks'?"

"Yes," the woman said, entering the flat. The man walked up the stairs, a small book tucked under his arm, and a mobile in his hand.

Short, sandy blonde hair that hung in his eyes, toned upper body, fitted, button-up shirt with tight blue jeans and brown loafers.

He looked up from his mobile and our eyes met. I snapped the door shut, the image of his ice blue eyes forever seared in my mind. There was a knock on the door.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. Counting to five, I opened the door, not wanting to seem any creepier than I had already made myself out to be.

"Hey, sorry, have I disturbed you? I guess I should introduce myself, Jo-"

"John Watson, 21, football player, studying to be a doctor, about to go off to university. In a relationship with Sarah, although I can't imagine that's going well. Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was expecting."

John stood there with his mouth hanging open. "How did you-"

"Quite simple really."

"On what planet?"

"I don't understand the question."

"On what planet was that simple?"

"Earth?"

He stared at me for a moment and I said, "I suppose I should explain. Sarah just walked into your new flat carrying three boxes. The first was labeled 'John's Stuff', female handwriting, shaking like mad, not your mother, far too nonspecific, labeled by your sister then. There's your first name. The second box, labeled 'Textbooks'. Quite large, all in all, almost too much for Sarah to handle, thick textbooks then, combined with the small first aid kit in your back pocket says doctor, or training to be one anyway, really might want to think about not wearing your trousers so tight, although, it is quite flattering on you. The third and final box, labeled 'Football'. Sort of speaks for itself, don't you think? This was the box on top, most likely because it was torn and the contents were spilling out. Trophies, medals, jerseys. Going to university on a sports scholarship, are we? Not to mention the £25,000 check made out to you, along with the words, 'Happy 21st, John, we're kicking you out!'. And then there's your mobile, 'To Harry, from Clara, xxx'. I'm assuming that Harry's your sister, as I've found no evidence that you have a brother. Seeing as she gave you her phone, she wants you to stay in touch, probably a going away present. She's recently broken up with Clara and wants rid of any reminders of that part of her life, so she's given it to you. And there you have your last name. Anything I've missed?" 

He stared at me, before finally saying, "What do you mean, 'Can't imagine that's going well'?"

"Well, first of all, you made her walk up to flights of stairs carrying three heavy boxes, while you saunter up carrying nothing but a book and your mobile! If I were her, I'd break up with you the moment I saw you!"

And, as if on cue, Sarah walked out in the hall.

"Oh, John, I was wondering- Oh, hello, Sarah, Sarah Sawyer!" she said, holding out a hand. I shook it reluctantly, not wanting to upset my new neighbor, who was staring daggers at me.

Sarah looked back at John, saying, "Didn't you bring anything up with you?"

"I brought this," he said, waving his pocket edition of The Hobbit in her face.

_I like him already,_ I thought to myself.

"You know what, this isn't working. It hasn't been working for weeks, but this is the last straw. Goodbye, John." She walked into John's flat and returned with her purse, not even glancing up as she walked past.

"What did I say?"

John looked back at me as if I had three heads. "You're a bloody psychopath."

"High functioning sociopath, actually. Would you like to come in for tea? You look like you could use a cuppa."

"Oh, God, yes."

 


	2. Riddles

Putting the kettle on, I said, "You know, for someone who's just broken up with their girlfriend, you don't seem too upset."

"To be honest, I actually feel quite relieved."

"Oh?"

"Sarah and I have been dating for months now, but I never really loved her, you know? you have a girlfriend?"

Chuckling, I said, "Girlfriend, no, not really my area."

"Oh. Ohhh, boyfriend then?"

"Not at the moment."

There was an uncomfortable silence before I said, "The Hobbit?" as the kettle began to whistle.

I busied myself with the tea and John said, "Yeah, ever read it? It's one of my favorites."

Again chuckling, I replied, "What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees, up up it goes, yet never grows?" I turned to hand him his tea and the grin I was met with could have lit up all of London.

"A mountain, of course," he replied, deciding to play along. "Thirty white horses on a red hill, first they champ, then they stamp, then the stand still."

Laughing at our impromptu game, I joined him in my little breakfast nook, one of the only places in the entire kitchen that wasn't covered in some kind of experiment.... or fluid.

"Teeth," I replied, glancing around. "I apologize for the state of my kitchen, by the way." I chuckle to myself.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said, "It's just, I've never done that before."

"What?" he asked again.

"Apologized."

He laughed as I said, "Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouth less mutters."

He smiled as he whispered, "Wind."

I stared at him across the table, searching his icy eyes. I rubbed my foot against his leg and his pupils dilated. Suddenly he whispered, "An eye in a blue face saw an eye in a green face. 'That eye is like to this eye,' said the first eye, 'But in low place, not high place.'"

"Sun on the daisies, it means, it does," I said, doing my best Gollum impression.

John laughed, an absolutely contagious sound, hardy and sincere.

"You know, I've lived here all my life and I've never once talked to any of my neighbors."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Well, for starters, I'm not very good with people."

"What are you talking about, out in the hall you read me like a book from a stack of boxes!"

"Exactly. A lot of people don't like that."

"It was amazing."

That's not what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?"

"Piss off!"

We laughed and I felt as if I might have finally found a friend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got all the parts for this story written except for the final chapter. Would you guys like me to upload all the parts I have now, or wait until I've written the ending? Let me know in the comments, I love to hear feed back.
> 
> Love you all,
> 
> ~JM


	3. The Cinema

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John go on a cinema date. Or do they....

Okay, we'll jump forward a bit. I don't think you really want to hear all the details of moving John in to his new flat. Quite boring if you ask me, but then, I find most things boring. About a week later, Wednesday I think it was, after John was all settled in, he asked me a question. We were sitting in his flat, having finally unpacked the last box, drinking tea with the telly on in the background. He was sitting in a little armchair, apparently completely engrossed in the programme, while I was stretched out on the black leather couch, thinking, my hands steepled under my chin.

"Sherlock," he said, disturbing my thoughts.

"What?" I said, without opening my eyes.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the cinema on Friday."

At this, I sat up, staring at him.

"Like... a date?"

He was pulling at a string on his jumper, black and white striped, one of my favorites.

"Yeah, like a date. They're showing a triple feature of The Hobbit movies and-"

"Of course I'd like to go!"

"Really?"

"Absolutely, why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I just thought, maybe I was moving too fast or-"

"Fast is good, I like fast."

When he smiled his eyes crinkled at the edges. I think that's the thing I miss most of all.

~

Friday came fast. John knocked on my door at 6 o'clock, sharp. Always exactly on time, that man. He was wearing his beige jumper, my all time favorite, with blue jeans and loafers. I had decided on my purple dress shirt, which for some reason make girls stare at me when I'm out, and sometimes guys as well. I paired it with black silk trousers and polished black dress shoes. I opened the door, grabbing my trench coach and scarf from the coat rack on my way out. John whistled when he saw me, making me blush.

"Damn, Sherlock, you look fantastic."

"I could say the same about you, Dr. Watson."

"I'm not a doctor yet."

"Calling you Mr. Watson feels wrong on so many levels."

I held out an arm, which he hesitantly took, a blush creeping up his neck.

"Oh, relax, we're just going to the cinema. It'll be dark and no one will talk to us."

He nodded, and we headed down to the lobby, arm in arm.

~

After the films, we decided to grab a bite to eat, having spent over six hours staring at a screen, hand in hand.

"Fancy a midnight snack?" I asked, opening the door to a nice restaurant a block from our apartment building.

"Starved," he replied, stepping into the warm establishment. "Could you get us a table, I have to go to the restroom."

"Alrighty." He headed off to the restroom, while I stepped up to the woman at the front podium.

"Table for two, please," I said.

"Follow me, sir," she said with an American accent.

She led me to a small table, covered in a white cloth, right next to the resturant's front window.

"Thank you."

I slid into the small booth as she walked away, my eyes on the restrooms, waiting for John to return. The moment he left the restroom, his eyes scanned the dining room, trying to find me. I waved at him and he smiled. He walked up to the podium, and the woman said something to him, but her back was to me and I couldn't quite catch what she said. He smiled awkwardly, and replied with a mumbled,  _Thank you_. She started to say something else, but he cut her off, saying,  _Actually, I'm here with someone._  She turned and he pointed at me. She blushed bright red. She turned back to John and said something else, and he came over and slid into the booth across from me.

"What was that all about?"

He blushed a deep scarlet.

"Just trying to get my number, that's all."

The look on my face must have been priceless, because he smiled and laughed.

"Well, then I suppose we should make it clear that we're together."

I leaned across the table, pulling him into a kiss. He seemed surprised at first, but he got over it pretty quickly. I pulled away, looking over at the woman at the podium. The look on her face was enough for me.

"I think I like it when you get jealous, Sherlock."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am enjoying writing this. However, I think the end will be my favorite part. I'm not sure how I'm going to end it, but I can be sure you all won't like it. 
> 
> Love you all,
> 
> ~JM


	4. It Was All a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock gets really fucking high

"SHERLOCK!"

"SHERLOCK!"

I awoke with a jolt. Finding myself on John's couch, I asked, "What day is it?"

"Wednesday. Are you okay? You started smiling and chuckling and I got worried."

Looking around, seeing all the empty cardboard boxes, I realized it was indeed still Wednesday.

Meaning John had never asked me out.

Meaning everything had been a dream.

Meaning I was in love with my only friend.

"It was all a dream," I mumbled to myself, still in shock.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said quickly, standing as I spoke.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Have I done something wrong?"

The confusion and hurt in his eyes was apparent.

"No, I..."

"You  _what_?"

"I'm confused. I had a weird dream, and I just need to go home. Okay?"

He stepped back. "Alright."

I was overcome by a sudden urge to kiss him, but I shook my head and walk out instead.

~

As soon as I could hear the light in my bedroom I knew I was high enough to handle the problem.

I sat up and tried to stash my supply of 'shrooms back under the loose floorboard under my bed, but ended up falling off my bed instead. High as I was, this experience could be related to falling from a skyscraper, and, in the state I was in, I proceeded to scream at the top of my lungs.

John, having a key to my flat and ears like a bat, immediately rushed over, virtually kicking in the front door in his haste.

"Sherlock? Sherlock, where are you? Are you okay?"

"In here, I'm on the floor in here, John. The floor is nice. I like it better when it stays in one place, though."

John's voice, by the way, is deep blue.

"Sherlock," John said in relief, walking into my room.

"Hi, John," I said, waving my hand at him halfheartedly. In retrospect, I probably looked ridiculous, my legs still hanging half off the bed, staring up at John, giggling under my breathe.

"Why did you scream?" John said as he helped me back onto the bed.

"I needed a doctor."

I meant this to sound sweet and romantic, but I said it very quickly and I fell forward onto John's lap as I said it.

"Are you  _high_?"

"Yep," I said, popping the "p". I rolled over, my head still in John's lap. I brought my hand up and tried to touch John's lips, but ended up poking him in the eye.

"Ow, Sherlock! You need to lay down. What kind of dream did you have that you had to come home and get  _high_?"

"A sad dream, John. Well, a very happy dream, really, but sad because I woke up. Sad because it was only a dream."

"What was it about? Maybe you'll feel better if you talk about it."

I giggled. "Silly, silly John. If I talk about it, then I won't come true."

"That's wishes, not dreams."

John had made no attempts to move me off of his lap.

"Maybe I wished my dream would come true."

"You really need to lay down and sleep this off."

"I am laying down. See that?" I pointed straight up. "That's the ceiling, and logically, if that's the ceiling, then I'm laying down on my back."

"Your finest deduction. Come on, off my lap, I'll tuck you in."

Reluctantly, I sat up. John pulled the comforter down on my bed for me and I snuggled under the covers. He pushed the blanket up to my chin and made to leave when I grabbed his hand.

"Stay?"

"Oh, Sherl-"

"Please?"

"Alright."

He sat down next to me and sighed.

"I love you, John," I whispered.

His face blushed a deep crimson before he muttered, "I love you, too, Sherlock."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until we meet again,
> 
> Love you all,
> 
> ~JM


	5. A Dream Come True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay, fluff!

John's face was my view when I woke up several hours later. I had a splitting headache, and, despite my wonderful view of a sleeping John, I was forced to close my eyes by the blinding light in my bedroom. I covered my eyes and groaned loudly, waking John in the process.

John sat up abruptly, the way one would when waking up in an unfamiliar place and having no memory of how you got there. He looked over and saw me with my hands over my face and said, "Sherlock? Oh, God, I must have fallen asleep!"

I groaned and he leapt from the bed and pulled the curtains.

"I'm going to make you some tea. STAY HERE." He left the room.

I opened my eyes when I heard my bedroom door shut. The ceiling was pulsing. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, and I had a feeling it had nothing to do with my recent.... activities. I tried to sit up, taking my pulse on my neck. It was racing so quickly I couldn't count it properly. A wave of nausea hit me and I had to lay back down.

"JOHN!"

"WHAT?"

"I NEED YOU!"

There was a bustling in the kitchen and John rushed into the room, stumbling over his own feet in his hurry.

"What?" His pupils were the size of dinner plates and his jumper was half untucked.

"I feel sick."

"No shit, Sherlock, you woke up and got high, what did you think was going to happen?"

"I just wanted everything to go away."

John sat down beside me. "Will you tell me what your dream was about now?"

"No. All I'll say is, it was very personal. And I'm not a very personal person. I don't..... understand, for lack of a better term, and I don't like it. I feel blind in situations that require feelings. Like I'm living in the dark."

"Oh, Sherlock." John pulled me into a hug and I felt my shoulders relax. I snuggled my head into the crook of his neck and just breathed him in. Wrapped in his arms, I felt like my whole life was vibrating with his and my walls came crashing down. I let out an unfettered sob and John pulled me closer.

"John, I-" I pulled away and looked John in the eye.

"I-" Before I could finish, John's lips were on mine and fireworks exploded in my mind, and for once it had nothing to do with drugs.

The kettle started to whistle and John broke away, smirking at me as he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short. *Sigh* I hope you like the fluffy stuff, because it's not going to last. Until next time,
> 
> Love you all,
> 
> ~JM


	6. What Happens Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has to school eventually.

"What was that?! Are you just going to leave it there?! I pour my heart out to you and you kiss me and walk away?!"

I had followed John into the kitchen, and he'd taken the kettle off the stove, that horrible grin still plastered on his face. I never though I'd miss that grin...

John turned to me and whispered seductively, "You're a drama queen."

The look on my face must have been priceless, because John laughed his wonderful laugh and pulled me in for another kiss.

We fit perfectly together, as though we were made for each other. Meant to be, my mother would have said. If only we could have had just a little bit longer.

John pulled away and rested his head on my shoulder.

"So what happens now?"

~~~

THREE WEEKS LATER

John's lips on mine woke me from a deep sleep. I opened my eyes to find him pressed against me. It was 3:49 and John and I had been living together to for less than a week. The experience thus far had been surreal.

John pulled away, whispering, "Sorry, couldn't sleep."

"You're most forgiven," I said, my word slightly slurred from my grogginess.

"Hey Sherlock?" John said, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Yes?"

"What happens when I go to uni?"

To be perfectly honest, the though had never crossed my mind until the night he asked that question. I had never stopped to wonder what I'd do without him, now that he was truly mine. The idea of him being away at uni was as painful as never seeing him again. That was, until I was forced to live with  _that_  pain every day since... well, since our wedding day. But I can't talk about that yet. I'm not ready. Do you have any idea what it's like to have absolutely everything you've ever wanted out of life, to be completely and utterly satisfied with every aspect of your life, and then have it all torn out from under you? Do you have any idea what that does to a person? But I'm straying off topic now. Perhaps we'll get to that later. Perhaps.

"I don't know what I'll do without you."

"Hopefully you don't do anyone else." He smirked. His eyes crinkled perfectly when he smiled, even sarcastically.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry this is so short, but at least it's more. I think I've figured out where this story is going, and if you've been following along I think you have, too. I apologize in advance for the massive feels up ahead. This story does NOT have a happy ending. Just a fair warning.
> 
> Love you all,
> 
> ~ JM


	7. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mystrade...

We'd been together for about a year and a half now. John decided it was time for him to finally go to uni. We decided that our relationship was finally strong enough for us to handle grownup responsibilities again. After all, John was only going to uni down the street three blocks. We were snuggled together on the couch when I said, "I'll miss you."

"Geez, Sherlock, I'm only going to be gone for the day. I'll still be here every night..."

"I want to do something before you leave. Something special."

"You mean besides me."

I chuckled. "Besides you. I've made reservations at Restaurant Gordon Ramsey for tomorrow night. I want this to feel official. Like you're actually going to uni and something big is about to happen."

John didn't speak for a moment. He just kind of stared at me. Then he untangled himself from me and pulled me up off the couch and led me to our bedroom.

~~~

John's hair always smelled exactly like Earl Grey. To this day I don't know how he got it to do that. And not knowing is something I'm not used to. Earl Grey was always my favorite tea. I had a cuppa every morning. Now I can't even bear to hear it mentioned.

I woke up to that smell the day of our dinner. John was curled up next to me, his head resting on my chest. I kiss his wavy hair and he stirred. His eyes were beautiful in the morning, like sunlight filtering through a glacier. He was beautiful and he was mine. I kissed him lightly on the lips and he yawned, stretching awake. I stood, pulling my blue robe over my thin frame, and headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Earl Grey, of course.

~~~

After breakfast I told John to put a costume on. We were going to a party. It was only a week before Halloween and my uni friend Lestrade had just moved back to town after working on some classified cases for an important government official and invited us. Apparently his partner was going to be there, too, so no one would be giving us any grief.

I explained all of this to John, particularly the last part, as he was always very worried of what people would think of us when we were out in public.  _He'd_  never had a relationship like ours and no one in  _my_  life had ever treated me the way John did. I'd never been shown affection when I was younger. My parents divorced when I turned sixteen, I hadn't spoken to my brother Mycroft in almost ten years, I never really had any friends growing up. John was my first love, and I didn't want anything to come between us.

~~~

The party was at a pub in Brixton. I'd booked our dinner reservations for 19:00, so I thought we'd go to the party for a while and then head. home to shower and change. I'd already picked out my costume, but I'd sprung the news on John a little short notice and he wanted to surprise me with his costume. He sent me out for milk to get me out of the flat while he picked out what he wanted to wear.

"Milk. Now. Go get."

"Wonderful grammar skills you have, John, I mean it, just marvelous." I smirked as he shut the door on me.

Seeing as I was out, there  _was_ something I wanted to pick up for my costume as well as milk, which we always seemed to be out of, perhaps because I thought it was a waste of time to go out and buy it.

~~~

_Got the milk?_

John texted me when I was on my way home.

_Got your costume?_

I pulled up outside our building and I headed inside.

I stepped into the lift and pressed the floor two button. Staying Alive was playing over the speakers. When the doors slid open I turned right down the corridor and and knocked on door 21b.

"It's open, Sherlock!"

I opened the door to an empty sitting room.

"John?"

"I'm in the bedroom, Sher. I'm getting changed. Do you want to see my costume?"

He opened the door and I couldn't breathe.

He was wearing a blue and gold letterman's jacket over a white t-shirt with tight blue skinny jeans, the same jeans he wore the day we met. His hair was spiked up and an unlit cigarette hung from his lips. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and said, "Your turn," as he came over and planted a soft kiss on my lips as he took the milk from me.

I smiled and rushed into our bedroom, eager to get dressed.

I pulled my brand new leather jacket out of the cupboard and laid it out on the bed. I then went in search of my black skinny jeans and leather boots. Once I'd found them I unbuttoned my purple dress shirt and took it off, careful not to wrinkle it when I hung it back in the cupboard.

Staring in the mirror, I smiled. Three years ago I'd been in hospital for an eating disorder. Every single one of my ribs stuck out about two inches at that point. Now, looking at myself, I was almost the size I'd been before my parents' divorce. I grinned as I pulled a pressed white t-shirt over my head.

~~~

I opened the door and I could hear John gasp. I'd slicked back my unruly curls and put on a white tee with my new black leather jacket and black skinny jeans, worn black leather boots and I had a motorbike helmet clutched under one arm, keys dangling from my other hand.

"Going my way?" I said to John.

"Is there any other way to go, Daddy-O?"

~~~

Now, before you say buying a motorbike for a costume is a waste of money, I didn't buy a motorbike. My father left his to me in his will. I'd never come to claim it because it was too much pain in one place. But that's besides the point.

It was 14:36 when we got to the pub the party was being held at. John had been a little wary of the motorbike at first, but was soon whooping with joy as we raced through midday traffic. I pulled up outside the pub and we took our helmets off.

Lestrade was standing outside waiting for us. He was a good looking guy, regal features, quite tall, piercing grey eyes, and prematurely greying hair. I'd had a crush on him for a while at uni, but I'd never had the courage to say anything to him about it. He was dressed as a female nurse, complete with a curly white blonde wig and short ass skirt. I laughed as he pulled me into a hug.

"Wonderful costume, Les', absolutely amazing."

I pulled back and introduced John.

"Greg," Lestrade said as he shook John's hand.

"John."

"Shall we go in?" Les' opened the door for us and we dove into the pulsing building. Strobe lights were flashing everywhere and the place was packed. It smelled like fragrance and stale alcohol. Lestrade lead us through the throngs of people, parting a way through the crowd like he owned the place.

He got us to the bar and we sat down next to a man wearing a bow tie and suit coat with a white Stetson. He was chatting up the man next to him, who was dressed as a Roman centurion. Stetson said something and the centurion pulled him into a rough kiss. They left, hand in hand, most likely in search of the nearest hotel.

John gave me his  _now-I-understand-what-you-meant-by-that_ look. I leaned over to him and said, "The pub's called Back Door, John." Just then, Lestrade walked over, hand in hand with a spindly ginger man with a smug look on his face.

"Hello, Sherlock."

"Mycroft."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry the chapters have been so short thus far. I wanted to give you an nice long, beefy chapter to make up for it. What's going to happen at Sherlock and John's dinner? Until we meet again,
> 
> Love you all,
> 
> ~JM


	8. Update

So long story short, I'm rewriting this fic. Not sure how long it'll take, or whether I'll post in installments or just post it all at once, but I can guarantee that it will be LONG. If anyone out there is super invested in this story and wants me to send updates, inbox me. JM out.


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